President Obama, Why Should I Really Vote FOR You?

Change? Really?

Related post. (Click on this link) — Questions Media Won’t Ask Romney and Ryan.

Related post. (Click on this link)– Occupy Wall Street: Ordinary, Working People — Moderate Left and Moderate Right — Must Come Together, Empower and Fight Back Against Both the Elite Center and Far Right and Far Left. Because there’s way too many overlaps as opposed to differences. Believe me: this is where the real strength is.

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NOTE: I wrote this blog using my personal time and resources.

Recently, I wrote two articles on this blog — both on the subject of the U.S. presidential elections. They were both popular — beyond my expectation. I want to thank all the readers — practically from all over the world — for their kind interest. It’s been a gratifying experience.

In the first article (click on the link here), I expressed my fear that Romney and Ryan — the Republican ticket — would win (that was before the Mother Jones “47%” expose broke out). In the more recent article I posted just a few days ago during the Republican National Convention, I challenged and asked some questions to the R&R ticket. You can read it here too.

Readers visited both articles with surprisingly high interest; particularly, the newest post where I challenged Romney, Ryan and Republicans to answer my questions got a very high number of readers. I was delighted. Of course, I never got any response from the Republicans at all; my doubt is that they never even heard my name, let alone read my questions. I wish they did.

But it was reassuring that so many readers took a moment out of their busy life to think about what I had to say on the political and economic scenario — of USA and almost by default, of the entire world. Given that my readership — especially my American readership — has a more liberal tilt, and that too, perhaps with a Democratic affiliation, I felt happy that my questions reached them and that they had the opportunity to use and share those twelve bullet points in their own circles. Who knows, maybe, some of these people are going to attend the Democratic National Convention that’s happening in North Carolina this week; chances are, at least a few of them who perhaps heard my name and about my OneFinalBlog through grapevine, Facebook and Twitter would talk about the issues I addressed in my articles, and have some productive, positive discussion.

At least, that is my hope. With that hope in mind, I’m now going to ask a few questions to President Obama and his Democratic Party — again, on the current political and economic scenario of America, and almost by default, of the entire world.

Republicans are now asking the American voters, borrowing the famous line from Ronald Reagan: “Are you better off now than you were four years ago?” Actually, even though I have absolutely no soft spot for the Republicans and I said it loud and clear that I would never vote for Romney and Ryan, I believe the question they’re asking is not irrelevant at all. In fact, that is a perfect ask any voters should ask themselves: are we now better off or worse off? And, what is the measure of being better off or worse off? Is it economic, is it the war and violence situation, is it domestic repression, is it the elitist status quo, or is it something else?

Remember them? No? No wonder media makes so much money making you forget stuff so quickly!

The only problem is, Republican leaders are asking the question disingenuously, and cheating their ordinary Republican (or undecided) voters who may or may not remember the whole story. If these leaders — most of them affluent and powerful and with deep ties with Corporate America and its powerful lobbyists — were not so dishonest and if they didn’t have an equally disingenuous media on their side, they would rather phrase the question this way:

“We know eight years of Bush completely destroyed the American economy, created an astronomical budget deficit, gave obnoxious tax breaks to the super wealthy, bailed out billionaire bank executives and corporate criminals, waged catastrophic genocides in Iraq and Afghanistan killing millions, looting oil and destroying history of ancient civilizations and bleeding us the U.S. taxpayers here to death, and tarnished the American superpower image once and for all across the world, but still, we believe that we are better than the Democrats to run this country. So, would you not vote for us? Please?”

Neither the Republicans nor the disingenuous, gloss-over U.S. mainstream media would frame their question to the voters this way. They don’t have the guts or honesty to do it.

(And Bill Clinton, in spite of his jackpot speech at the DNC, forgot to tell us how he destroyed age-old American welfare especially for poor women, imposed NAFTA with majority help from Republicans drastically cutting U.S. manufacturing jobs in the U.S., overturned landmark Glass-Stegall, rehired Greenspan to destroy the economy even more, and deregulated financial derivatives with help from Rubin and Summers. He also forgot to tell us how he and war criminal W. Bush have been great buddies ever since. Maybe, he’s preparing us for a Hillary 2016 and a Jeb Bush 2020. Who knows? Nobody but the elite knows anything: it’s all elitist secret. And they call it a democracy!)

Too disturbing to digest!

In any case, we can never believe that Obama-Biden and the Democrats did a wonderful job in these four years and should be able to put all the blame on those eight years of a Bush-Cheney-Rumsfeld-Ashcroft presidency; hence, we should all be happy and happily vote for another four years of Obama-Biden. Not so easy. We have some serious questions for President Obama and his Democratic Party, and here they are. Again, for the sake of time — both of my esteemed readers and Obama and the Democratic leaders who are busy and important people, I’m going to ask only a handful. I’ll save the rest for later.

You know what? I like Barack Obama as a person. I like Michelle Obama too. They are two of the smartest and modernest first couple America has seen for the first time in generations. And I know for sure that just because they are black, a large number of Americans (and Indians — from India) hate them. It’s unbelievable that even in 2012, millions of people especially in USA, Europe and India believe blacks are inferior to whites (and to browns and red and yellows and olives and purples and grays…) and a black president is a disgrace for this God’s Country called USA.

Well, let me tell you this. I think these people are pure racists and sexists and bigots and jerks too; and just because I know them so well from my own long experience to be with racists and sexists and bigots and jerks, I think at the end of the day, I’ll come out and vote for Obama, even though I think his Democratic administration has cheated me of my hope, expectation and enthusiasm for a change. But that’s not what I wanted to do. I wanted to vote FOR a presidential candidate FOR him, and not AGAINST his racist and bigoted and sexist and lying opponents.

So, at this point, without annoying my patient readers to death, I’ll ask a few questions to Barack. Mr. President, Sir, would you please be kind enough to respond, or at least ask one of your colleagues to do it? It would be much appreciated. My questions are not prioritized in any particular fashion.

Question 1. (I asked this to Romey and Ryan too). – Rachel Corrie, a young American woman, in 2003 stood in front of an Israeli bulldozer to protest against Israeli government’s demolition of houses of Palestinian civilians. The bulldozer crushed her to death. Your Democratic Party leaders such as Hillary and Bill Clinton had blasted Chinese government’s human rights violation when its tanks threatened to kill Chinese protesters at Tienanmen Square a few years ago. Do you think your Democratic Party can show the same resolution to protest against the action of the Israeli government when they killed Rachel Corrie? (You might also add here the drama of including Jerusalem as the Israel’s capital in the Democratic election platform.)

Question 2. (I asked this to Romey and Ryan too). — Multinational, U.S.-based companies such as Monsanto, Union Carbide, Coca Cola, Chevron and Disney (among many others) have caused havoc in many other countries because of their ways of doing business. For example, over the past decade, 200,000 Indian farmers (yes, you’ve heard it right!) have committed suicide — the largest in human history — because of Monsanto’s permanent seed replacement with their own genetically engineered products and false promises of crop yield. Union Carbide’s infamous toxic gas leak in Bhopal in 1984 had killed thousand of poor workers and their families; women who suffered are still delivering crippled babies. Are you going to bring these companies to justice and compensate the victims for the disasters they went through?

Question 3. (I asked this to Romey and Ryan too). — Have you ever visited an agricultural or industrial farm in California, Tennessee, Arizona, Florida or Texas where owners work immigrant workers like slaves in a toxic situation — with zero human rights? Many of them die of cancer, tuberculosis and such diseases — because of their inhumane work conditions. Do you see any difference between their condition and that of the black workers and their families in a cotton plantation during the slavery days? Your government has detained and deported more undocumented immigrants — many of such poor workers — than even Bush and Ashcroft government did.

Question 4. – Why did your administration let Goldman Sachs, one of the biggest corporate criminals in the history of modern human civilization, off the hook even after their criminal activities were exposed beyond doubt at bipartisan Congressional hearings?

Question 5. – Why did you include people such as Larry Summers, Tim Geithner, Ben Bernanke, Jeff Immelt, et al.  — some of the worst-known corporate elements responsible behind the financial disaster — in your administration and would not purge them in spite of repeated pressure even from the pro-people sections of your own party? Why did you not stand behind the Overturn Citizen United campaign of Sen. Bernie Sanders — 100 percent?

Question 6. – Why did you not take up, let alone pass, the Employee Free Choice Act when labor unions have always been such an ardently faithful ally? Isn’t that one of the worst examples of not keeping your 2008 campaign promises?

Question 7. – President Jimmy Carter has condemned your drone attacks and hit lists that killed thousands of innocent civilians in Pakistan and Afghanistan (and recently in Yemen too). Isn’t that one of the grossest violations of international peace treaties and human rights laws? (And we all know you also backtracked on closing down Guantanamo.)

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Post Script. – This is from New York Times tonight (click for the news story here). Obama’s top strategist, David Axelrod, said, “We’re in a better position than we were four years ago in our economy.” But Gov. Martin O’Malley of Maryland, a Democrat, answered “no” on CBS’s “Face the Nation,” though he blamed Republicans. Other aides equivocated.

I’ll tell you this. Martin O’Malley and the other aides are honest. David Axelrod is dishonest and arrogant with his answer. And that is my problem with this Democratic Party and its top people who run the show. If you tell me we’re better off than four years ago, you’re kidding me. If you tell that to an ordinary American voter — Democrat or Republican or undecided — you’re going to lose their vote. Remember, many of these people didn’t watch Bill Clinton last night: they were working a late-evening shift to make ends meet.

We, the ordinary people who live and work in the U.S., who lost their jobs, health care, life’s savings and houses, and who can’t afford to play the stock market, are not better off. People like us do not see light at the end of the tunnel. President Obama and Mr. Axelrod, you must face the truth. You must tell the truth.

Most importantly, tell us why should we vote FOR you, and not just against your bigoted, lying, racist, sexist opponents?

Thank you, Sir, for your valuable time and kind response.
Sincerely Writing,

Partha

Brooklyn, New York

Youth Unemployment Hit a Record 30%.

Sharing Life’s Notes: How To Think In 101 Ways

Organize and Refine Thinking

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I’m now writing a brief, made-easy guide on the subject of thinking.

Yes, you’ve heard it right. But, don’t think too much about it…just yet. Please read what I have to say, and then think.

And no, it’s definitely not a condescending sermon. Rather, it’s a collective process of understanding, sharing and co-stimulation.

I could have titled this post: “You think you know how to think? Think so? Well, think again!” But that would’ve been too long for a  title, and given people’s very short attention span these days, chances are, I would’ve lost a number of my precious readers. So, I used a simpler title. At least I thought I did. You think about it, and let me know. This is really about life’s multifaceted experiences.

So, the title is, “Sharing Life’s Notes: How To Think In 101 Ways.”

A much simpler game of Ludo. But the idea of organized thinking to get a positive result is still there.

See, I already thought a few times over on this topic and how to use the best possible, attractive title so that readers who are now visiting my blog from all possible and impossible, incredible, wonderful corners of the world (believe me!) would actually take their precious time to read it. Not only that: I also cleverly imposed some task on you — to think along with me! But because you’re clever too, you’re not going to fall for my subtle imposition. I know you won’t. I only hope that you do it because you want to do it.

On a lighter note, just think: so much of my thinking went into writing the above, carefully crafted comment! It’s hard, man! Thinking is not easy.

One thinks the other can’t think. But who’s thinking?

(Like, Diane Chambers said about Sam Malone in Cheers, “He can’t think anymore today. He has already thought twice!”)

But more seriously, unlike Sam Malone who couldn’t think more than twice a day — if we gave the Harvard dropout Diane Chambers the benefit of the doubt (yet, if you knew Ms. Chambers, you ought to take her statements with a crazy grain of salt) — we the ordinary people think, have to think, or would like to think more than twice. In fact, we think quite often and frequently — just like the elite, rich, powerful and famous do.

Now, here is the problem. Sometimes, we even think without knowing we’re thinking. Sometimes, nothing concrete comes out of the thinking process. Sometimes, we get even more confused thinking! Because, in many cases, we are not thinking in an organized and planned way. That is where we could perhaps use some help: how to organize and refine our thinking.

Satyajit Ray used the chess metaphor splendidly.

I shall use the game of chess to explain my thoughts to you — in this brief time and space of a blog. Stay with me: you might find the next 1,200 or so words useful. At least, you could tell me that after thinking about what I said, you thought it was not useful. Like, you might say, my (i.e., yours truly’s) thinking was useless. Or, you might say, you had already thought what I thought: there’s nothing new. Either way, some organized and refined thinking would be involved, and, that would be good.

Now, without further ado, on with some chess.

In this movie (see poster here) called “Shatranj Ke Khiladi” (The Chess Players, 1977), a story written by the great Hindi-Urdu writer Munshi Prem Chand, Satyajit Ray the genius film director used a number of layers of themes, sub-themes, imagery, symbolism and metaphors to tell the story. I won’t bother you with the intricate details of the movie here: you can click on the link I provided above and look it up. Very briefly, the story talks about social problems and political problems using the backdrop of a slow and laid-back, pre-British feudal, Muslim-ruled India; it also talks about personal issues and national issues. The various layers in the story intertwine and blend. And the master filmmaker takes high artistic liberty to create one of his best creations; a political story easily turns into a personal story, and vice versa. The game of chess and two chess-addict patriarchs becomes the unifying thread throughout the length of the movie.

You watch the movie, and then you come back and watch it again…and again. Why? Because the movie makes you think. It makes you think more. And it makes you think harder. You need to take the time — a lot of time — to peel away the layers of the story line, one layer at a time.

You think about the people in it. You think about the places in it. You think about the politics in it. You think about the society in it. You think about the issues and problems in it. You think about the short-term problems. You think about the mid-term problems. And then you think about the long-term problems.

One End-result of One Action Plan.

And then you think about all the consequences of these people’s deeds, actions, mis-actions and inactions. You put yourself in the movie — as if you are a character in it too — and you try to find perhaps alternative solutions to the problems the movie poses — both on the personal and collective and social fronts. Would you do things differently? Could you do things differently? Do you feel any urge to do anything at all?

At the end of the day, that’s really the essence of the thinking process: to get into some action. Then, in order to get into and on with an action, you need an action plan.

If you think in an organized way, and make plans while thinking, your action is bound to be effective and meaningful — to produce positive results. That’s the beauty of organized and refined thinking process.

It’s like eventually trapping or checkmating your opponent’s king in that little game of chess.

(I shall write more. Please come back. Thanks for your…thinking.)

Sincerely Writing,

Partha

Brooklyn, New York

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Critical thinking and complicated reasoning: that makes us us.

Autobiography of a Naked Sadhu

I am a naked sadhu — a holy man.

I live in a cave — away from civilization.

I cannot reach out and touch the rest of the world — its people, pleasures and pain. In fact, I do not want to.

I have voluntarily exiled myself.

I have ash smeared all over my unclothed body. I have not took a shower for years. I have not had any cooked food for ages. I have not wore clothes for eons.

I have a smoking clay kiln with firewood from the surrounding forest. It burns day and night. The smoke fills up the entire cave. Nobody can see me from outside. Nobody has the guts to come in. There’s an invisible chalk circle.

I sleep whenever I wish. I wake up whenever I wish. I eat and drink whenever I wish. I follow no rules of civilization no more.

But I am still strong. I am strong physically. I am strong mentally. Unlike most others, I can clearly think. I can analyze.

I don’t speak much. But I can speak. I speak only when I want to speak. Nobody can make me speak. Nobody can make me do anything.

I do not need anything either from the so-called civilization. I am just fine without needs. A sadhu has no need. A sadhu has no greed.

People who I left behind believe I am sore, disillusioned and disturbed. They are right — more or less.

I am angry but not destructive. I am disillusioned but objectively so. I am disturbed because only the mindless can be undisturbed at the way things are going in that so-called civilization. Just the other day, they shot and killed women and children in their sleep, and burned their bodies. It was not honor killing.

Life has no meaning. Home has no meaning. Hope has no meaning.

I renounced life as I knew it because finally I woke up to realize that I have been cheated all my life — by the people who have power. I came to realize that they’ve always cheated me of my dues, dignity and dimes. I know, for sure, there is no democracy when it comes to honor and honesty for the ordinary. I was ordinary when I lived and worked in civilization. I did not see any honesty or honor coming my way.

I could be screaming violent about it. I could’ve exploded in anger at the injustice and insults I’ve experienced all my life. I could speak and write about all the lies, half truths and exclusions of truth.

But I won’t do it no more. I am a sadhu. I am a holy man. I do not believe in violence. I renounced pains and pleasures and people too. I renounced reaction.

I decided to withdraw — completely. It is an absolute renunciation.

Just outside of my cave, life is still dancing away. Just outside of my shelter, love is still waving at me. Lust is inviting me with open arms — in an explicit gesture of seduction. All the material pleasures — money, mauds and maids included — are eagerly waiting for me just outside. They’re using all their seductive mights to lure me away from this exile. Urvashis and Venuses, Ratis and Aphrodites are ready with sensuous movements of their oblique glances and wavy curves. The mortal bankers and earthly treasurers are waiting to shower me with their usurped mountains of dark, sinful cash. Military, mafia, machines and monsters and their pimps are also sending their vicious, bone-chilling threats to pull me out of this maximum isolation.

But I know, they will all fail to accomplish their mission.

I am now meditating my autobiography. I am a naked sadhu — a holy man. I am like Buddha in his deepest meditation under the Bodhi Tree — searching for the meaning of life.

Only in my case, I’m not searching for life. I have seen life.

I am content in my cave.

Do not disturb me.

You cannot disturb me.

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Sincerely Writing,

Partha

Brooklyn, New York

I’m leaving for India. Are you interested?

India in Color

I’m leaving for India. Are you interested?

A few days ago, I wrote the above question as my Facebook status update. Happily, a sizable number of people — both longtime friends and new friends (and some relatives) wrote back warmly and positively. They all said they were interested.

About twenty people either “liked” my question, or wrote something in response. If you know how Facebook status updates work, it’s ever-fleeting: it doesn’t stay for too long on a regular Facebook user’s home page. Other status updates come up from other friends, or you post a new update, and they all scroll down the home page one by one, taking over and pushing the old update into oblivion. Life’s new scenarios come forward, and old stories quickly become just that: old stories.

What many Facebook regulars do these days is that they repost their old status updates that they consider to be important or noteworthy. Then, people who you wanted to draw attention from, and who had missed it the first time, would now have a chance to chance upon it, and comment to satisfy your yearning, or some say, ego.

So, following that state-of-the-art new media conversational process, indeed those twenty first-installment friends and their gratifying responses satisfied me. Now, reader of my blog, if you are not on my Facebook, I couldn’t give out the names of those responders for privacy’s sake; and I sincerely invite you to join my now-wow-list of three-thousand-plus friends. Meanwhile, I’m sharing here *some of the responses* I received on that thread, without ID-disclosing the responders.

Response #1. “Yeah…. Am eagerly awaiting your arrival……”

Response #2. “In a free ride? Yes!!!” (she’s from Australia: their sense of prepositions is kinda outbackish

Response #3. “Terribly so.” (I’m sure she meant well a kind-hearted person, I know)

Response #4. — Here’s a good one: “What if all your 3179 friends show interest?” (I’d be overjoyed if they did

Response #5 — “This side of the Suez Canal, we are all waiting…:) ” — I know this person. Goodhearted, kind and warm and all, but she’s always been poor in Geography. She got mixed up between India and Egypt

[and so on...]

Then, after a while, a different response came in. My friend Bill wrote:

“In the past, I had no great interest in seeing India, probably because I coiuld not separate from all the movie images of a British-tainted India. But you have shown me a different perspective, and would be VERY interesting to see it through those eyes, though I doubt the Indian office of tourism would be thrilled. However, the timing is not good for a trip. But I hope yours is fufilling, personally and professionally.”

Gunga Din to Indiana Jones to Slumdog to Born Into Brothels: the Distortion is On

Very insightful, indeed! Let’s see what and how many elements of interest can we find in Bill’s insightful comment. (By the way, I hope I’m not putting my good friend Bill on the spot. I’m just using his thoughts as a boiler plate, so to speak, to cook up some more thoughts that immediately come to my mind, whenever I see such comments; and I do it over and over again with high appreciation.)

Element One. — “In the past, I had no great interest in seeing India.” — Okay, no problem. Easy to understand. But why not?

Bill immediately explains it.

Element Two. — “probably because I could not separate from all the movie images of a British-tainted India.” — So, even good friends like Bill who keep an open mind and want to learn about other civilizations and societies, in this case outside of the U.S., have in their minds deeply ingrained, and probably fake, twisted and distorted, negative images of India courtesy mainstream movies. Jungle Book, Gunga Din, and the other Rudyard Kipling genre movies and novels have always done a great job to keep the Western audience misinformed about India and her people. Then, much later, Indiana Jones movies (Lost Ark, etc.) have done it even better. And, finally, who can forget about the modern-marvel-misinformation of City of Joy, Slumdog Millionaire or an Oscar movie I personally worked in — Born Into Brothels?

Element Three. — “But you have shown me a different perspective.” Aww, thanks, bro. Only if you could rub that onto my Indian would-be-rich-and-famous friends who would perhaps have a totally different perspective about your perspective about my perspective. (Now…read it one more time…if you please

Element Four. — “would be VERY interesting to see it through those eyes.” Bill means my eyes. I know. That’s a smarty-pants way to avoid expenses and time and hassle to visit India. I get it, Bill. You want to visit India at my expense, especially when I’ll be a couple of thousand dollars poor and at least a dozen pound smaller (sicker) coming back from eating carbon monoxide and lead from taxicab exhausts and sidewalk chicken rolls. Nice thought, Bill

Element Five. — “though I doubt the Indian office of tourism would be thrilled.” Now, that’s not fair. I was planning to write about the romantic-sensual-erotic side of India too in my weekly write-ups, including vivid descriptions of Konark and Khajuraho stone dems (google images) and Kolkata, Delhi and Mumbai diners. I don’t see any red flags raised by Indian tourism offices! Now, when I start writing about non-erotic subjects such as politics or poverty, that’s a different story. But I never plan to mix them up; in fact, I hope to make some little money selling my hot tourism stories, with no political masala, whatsoever.

I also plan to write more about the Indian women and how they have touched me — remember I told you that would be an ongoing story? Here’s your chance to get back on that mold. Promise it’s going to be exciting…at least fun. People tell me they liked the previous episodes.

So, that’s it for now. Tired and exhausted of finishing up long list of to-do’s before I leave. Excited and thrilled that I’m going back to a place I know so well and care so deeply about.

I hope you keep in touch with me on a regular basis. I plan to write, as I said before, at least on a weekly basis. On India. On the land of Tagore. On the land of Kabir. On the land of Sri Chaitanya, Buddha, Nanak, Tulsi Das and Mirabai.

I plan to write about the live reincarnations of the above legends too. You’ll know what I’m talking about.

I Look Forward to Meet You

I’m leaving for India. Are you interested?

By the way, I never really told you and you never asked this simple question: interested in WHAT?

Tell me now, when you get a chance.

Sincerely Writing,

Partha

Brooklyn, New York

The Way Women Touch Me…It’s Flowertalk

We had foretalk already. It’s now Flowertalk.

…just think about it!

 

[and listen to my recording of the Tagore song I posted below, in case you have any plans to translate his tunes...i tried and failed.]

 

Could it be that I needed to construct the whole structure by deconstructing my prose into poetry? I guess I could do it — with some major effort. Question is, who’d read it? Especially when my poetry is so pathetically erroneous and unsophisticated…just like me?

Instead, we might do this, with your permission (I’m learning manners here). I’ll write a few lines in prose, and then interject with a few lines of poetry. How about it? It’s almost as if I’m describing my experiences with my women…and their touches…as if they came sporadically into my prosaic life…like a few brief, precious, fragrant floral poetic phrases…and the unreal poetry made my stoic mundane unmentionworthy existence worth keeping. It’s a metaphor.

Pretty poetic, right? Well, for me, it is. But isn’t it true that many people have said the same thing about their women — more or less exactly the same way I just did? So, who’s going to bother to read about my poetic flashes? Where are my flowers different from their flowers?

Now, I’m already digressing even before beginning. Friends have already warned me about my longwinded English, unnecessary digressions, and use of complex sentences (I just did one, fyi). They have told me that no way I could woo even a single woman with such morose verbose overdose of unexciting prose.

One of them even called my writing about women “wimpy.”

(I was heartbroken).

They said just because it’s red with emotion doesn’t make it all that rose. (Did you get that poetry yet?…like…prose and rose?)

Would you believe? Even after they said it — and these are friends that would only come along once in a light year — I still fell into that stupid trap, made complex sentences to a point that everybody (myself included) found it…well…too complex…and channel-switching?

Therefore, without any further ado, I shall describe my flowers…I mean…women.

So, ahem. If I could describe my experiences with women in one single [and simple] sentence, it’s this. They’ve all been like flowers that would appear out of nowhere, form buds, create a lot of excitement and possibilities, and then…

…then you have to wait until they decide when to open up. You’re totally at their mercy. You surrender to their wish. If you touch the bud, it might just drop off, or turn pale, and wither. If you force it to open, it will definitely die. You must let it open up to you at its own pace…its own whims…and wait for it.

And then, it might as well do it. And if it does…and when it does…you shall feel yourself lucky that you lived that moment. Thousand stars lighten up the sky in an instant; thousand suns explode.

At that moment, even the most unpoetic you would find yourself writing a few lines of beautiful verse.

But one secret…chances are…it might decide to open at a time when you’re not looking…when you’re indifferent, unmindful…maybe, you’ve practically given up on it…or when you’re sad and depressed that it aroused your senses so much and then turned you down…even when you were so eagerly and patiently waiting for that magic moment to happen…

You never complain. If it happens that way, let it happen that way. Because the end result is so glorious, fantastic, celestial.

You can now touch your flower. You can now take it in your hand, You can now smell it. She has yielded to you.

You can now kiss her.

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Here’s some poetry I promised. But this is real poetry by a world-famous poet. After all that, I decided not to take a chance. Here is Tagore, for you. Bengali, and then English.

The poet already said it what I always wanted to say…to those special women…I mean, to those special flowers.

Here’s to you…flower.

Tumi ektu kebol boste dio kachhe

Amay shudhu khanek tarey

Aji haate amar ja kichhu kaaj achhe

Ami saango korbo porey

 

let me sit, please

would you, by your side

only for a little

and I shall will wait

to finish my chores

mundane, brittle

 

Na chahile tomar mukhapaane

Hriday amar biraam nahi jaane

Kaajer majhe ghurey beRai jato

Phiri kulhara sagorey

 

true, if I miss

but lookin’ in your eyes

my heart won’t pause

 

in midst o’ my chores

will wander around

by oceans abound

bereft of cause

 

Basanto aj ucchhaashe nisshashe

Elo amar batayane

Alos bhramor gunjariye othey

Phere kunjero prangane

 

spring’s arrived

at my flung-open bay

with fanfare, breeze

honeybees buzz

’bout ‘n around

lush garden and trees

 

Ajke shudhu ekantey aseen

Chokhe chokhe cheye thakar din

Ajke jiban-samarpaner gaan gabo

Nirab abasorey

 

’tis time for us two

only me and you

I look in your eyes

you look in mine too

 

and ’tis time to sing a song

the submission song

from a heart to a heart

all quiet and long

________

Sincerely Writing,

Partha

Brooklyn, New York

The Poet of All Poets

The Way Women Touch Me…It’s Foretalk

A very personal confession.

I can actually smile!

I could’ve titled it My Personal Women’s Studies Program. Or, perhaps, romantically, The Women I Loved. Yes, here’s a more exciting one: My Secret Sex Life (ooo!). You can imagine more.

(Just don’t tell my wife. Let there be some secret only between you and me. Okay?)

I settled on The Way Women Touch Me. I wanted to emphasize…er…you know…on the element of…touching (here’s an uptalk…up-talk the word touching at the end of the sentence…you know uptalking, right?). You might say, to spice it up a little…to invite my fabulous readers to imagine or un-imagine about *my* sex life, etc. (*my* in asterisks…because there are a lot of controversies surrounding it out there…I hear). That’s the emphasis. Otherwise, who’s going to read my mundane chronicling of human rights abuse in the U.S., India’s finance minister’s dubious connection with the devilish IMF, if the British would apologize for their two centuries of lynching and looting in India, or my personal post-9/11 brushes with bigotry and racism? Come on…let there be some fun! Life is too boring anyways…let’s laugh a little…and relax. Let me buy you a soft drink…maybe…a glass of champagne? Yeah?

In fact, a very attractive, sophisticated and smart friend recently suggested that I showed people that I could actually do funny. She said, make it fun, Partha, and people will read your serious social and political messages too. Didn’t I say she was brilliant?

Know what? I sorta always knew it, but then sorta didn’t do it…in the midst of this Troy Davis murder and Obama’s total, disastrous letdown and the rise of  a bunch of Neo-Nazis in the U.S., and all. But now that she gave me that little, ear-pullin’ spark, I thought I should use it and even my wet match box would fire up. It has done it a number of times before…don’t believe it…just look at my photo…don’t I look fabulous? That’s serious proof…like Obama’s birth certificate…that I can laugh too!

(My Columbia Journalism School friends and some other peers often call me a wet blanket…but I really think I’m more like a soggy match box, given the size of my brain and body — ask my buddy Michael. I totally appreciate those little, magical sparks that come along from heaven once in a while. Like my ever-fleeting emotions, those few fun flowery fragrant fleetin’ frolic friends come along, touch me with their surreal magic, lighten me up, and then disappear in thin air. For the rest of my life, I remember those few, soft, sweet-sultry touches, and heave and sigh…and sigh and heave…)

But I can laugh, swear to God. In fact, any weekends, between eight and ten in the evening, you come over to our house for some out-of-the-world Indian food my wife makes (call first, please — she is busy). You’ll hear laughs even from the subway station on your walk over to ours…make no mistakes…we laugh hard…and guess what, I’m the epicenter of it (now, don’t twist the meaning — I saw your eyes twitch.).

Sophia Loren's grandmother enjoyed her sex life at 80. That's good karma!

Anyways. What was the topic of this conversation? Oh yes, women…and the way they touch me. Ooo! Let’s see (rubbing my palms together). Now, remember, you promised not to tell my wife.

In fact, I need a must-do digression, with your kind permission. The Way Women Touch Me could be the title of my next novel…I mean…my first novel. And if this blog becomes the publisher’s promo on the web, there will be serious questions, concerns and raised brows from diverse corners of my so-far well-kempt married life. In fact, some of these questioners, concerners and raised-browers are on my Facebook. And then, they have their Facebook friends and then their friends…and poor wifey and I are connected with all of them directly or indirectly…like a Venn Diagram. But now that I’ve taken this subject on, and by default, it’s kinda sexy and salacious, I think I would not mind being slobbered over by some gossiping drool. Wifey though…for her…that’s not funny at all. That’s the reason I said you better keep her out.

Or we can’t scramble and get to the bottom of it (no pun intended).

[not bored yet? come back. i will.]

Sincerely Writing,

Partha

Brooklyn, New York